Feast Day: No particular day, and every particular day.

The best analogy for Baptism that I have ever heard, and one that captivates confirmandi’s around the diocese when I ask it of them starts “if your mom and dad were to give you any car of your choice, what would it be?”  I have gotten a lot of Lamborghinis and Ferraris in response, as well as a few Teslas, Mustangs, Ford F150s, … and one tractor.  It is a good image because a free car would be a tremendous gift, and so is the grace of baptism.  I am sure that Fr. Alford and Fr. Vahling will explain more of the nuts and bolts of the graces of this first and fundamental sacrament, but I want instead for you to sit in your ‘car’ and take a minute to look around.

Cars do a lot for us.  They carry us from place to place, they protect us in a cocoon of metal and glass and plastic, they make it possible for us to go places that would be far more arduous and dangerous without them.  They have lights to illuminate dark roads; air-conditioning to keep us comfortable; seats and belts to keep us secure; screens to tell us where, how fast, and how far we are along the way; speakers to entertain us; mirrors to amplify our vision; and cupholders to keep us hydrated.

Baptism does more for us.  It is the supernatural gift of divine life that pervades and transfigures every moment of our lives.  It is the first dose of God’s protection against the Evil One, and a continuous promise of His watching over us and protecting us.  It allows us to receive graces, insights, and truths of faith that we could not acquire without it.  It illuminates and transforms the dark days of life into encounters with the Crucified One.  It strengthens and supernaturalizes our ability to look within, and without, seeing ourselves as God sees us, and loving others as God loves them.  It makes every other adventure in the Christian life possible: watching our sins get demolished by God’s mercy, receiving the influx of the Holy Spirit Himself, approaching the Wedding Feast of the Lamb, giving ourselves absolutely to a spouse and family, or God’s holy church, and allowing the hardest days of life be transformed by the divine physician.

How’s your car looking right now?  Does it give you a thrill every time you use it, to know that Someone loves you that much?  Do you know, and celebrate, the day when it was given to you?  When is the last time you vacuumed out the cheerios and blasted off the clumps of mud?  Have you engaged it to its fullest, or just gone back and forth to work?  If a free car was available to everyone, would you tell a friend if they were still traipsing through life on foot?  If somebody else was lost, broke-down, and smashed-up, would you point them in the right direction, and mention that it only costs humility to get everything fixed up?

This week’s saint is all of us.  That is, all who are baptized, and everybody that could be baptized … so all y’all (that’d be “you lot” in the UK, “yous” in Ireland, Scotland, and Australia, “you-uns” in Pennsylvania, and “yees” in Ireland…), and me as well.  This month we celebrate all the saints, and pray for all those who have died already, but what remains to be done is to choose today to live well the graces we were given at our baptism.  We have been given a great gift, let us not neglect it!

– Fr. Dominic Rankin was baptized the same day that he was born.  Eyewitnesses claim that this was because he and his twin were born a few months early, and for evidence point to the few more months that he, his sister, and mom, and dad, and the rest of the anxious family spent in the hospital after that emergency baptism.  He would like to think that really it was because of all the zeal he had to get those graces early.

Earlier this week, I was listening to a podcast from Father Mike Schmitz, and in his homily, he referenced a Mark Twain quote that I heard once, but had forgotten.  The quote goes like this: “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”  As I thought about that quote a little bit, it became clear how insightful it is, for to know our purpose in life is a great gift, as it helps us set a direction and follow it.

But as a Christian, I would like to respectfully propose a different answer to the most important day question, and that would be the day of our Baptism.  On that day, we are freed from Original Sin and made adopted sons and daughters of God, destined to share eternal life in Heaven.  That new birth, while dependent on our natural birth, is far more significant for us because of the gifts of God’s grace and that promise of our inheritance with the saints in the Kingdom.  If all of that is true (and the Lord promises that it is), then I might propose as the other most important day of our life is the day that we die.  Our initial reaction is to maybe reject that proposal, but stay with me.  The end of our life here on earth is not an end at all.  As one of the prayers of the funeral liturgy of the Church proclaims so beautifully: “Indeed for your faithful, Lord, life is changed not ended.”  The faithful are those who have received that new life in Baptism and who, at the time of their death, are in relationship with Christ in the state of grace.  It is our sure and certain hope that those who die in this state will receive their inheritance of being welcomed to the eternal wedding banquet of Heaven.  This makes death the doorway to that life for which we have been created, perfect union with God for eternity.

When we become aware of the gift of our Baptism, we become aware of why we were born.  In that same podcast, Father Mike Schmitz pointed back to the Baltimore Catechism which asked the simple question: “Why did God make me?”  Many of you don’t even need to read the answer, because you have it memorized: “God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this life, so that I can be forever happy with Him in Heaven.”  Our Baptism gives us our why, and it points to our final goal of being happy with Him in Heaven.

As we begin this month of November, our Family of Faith topic is the Sacrament of Baptism.  November is also a month when we recall the souls of the faithful departed, prompting us to pray for them, but also calling us to be aware of our end as well.  And because of the gift of our Baptism, that day is not something to be feared, but to look forward to, for it means the fulfillment of the new life received in Baptism.  As Christians, then, let us be convinced that the two most important days in our lives are the day of our Baptism and the day of the end of our earthly journey which will mark our entrance into Heaven.

Father Alford     

Feast Day: November 2^nd 

How can one tell the stories of all the souls at once?  I would like to borrow from a tale told by C.S. Lewis in his book depicting a soul’s departing this life and approaching heaven, The Great Divorce.  Midway through the book we witness a ghost debating about whether to make his long way towards the heavenly mountains in the distance, or to just head home.  He encounters a flaming angel as he debates, realizing that the devious red lizard on his shoulder doesn’t have a place in the presence of God.

“Yes. I’m off,” said the Ghost. “Thanks for all your hospitality. But it’s no good, you see. I told this little chap,” (here he indicated the lizard), “that he’d have to be quiet if he came -which he insisted on doing. Of course his stuff won’t do here: I realise that. But he won’t stop. I shall just have to go home.”

‘Would you like me to make him quiet?” said the flaming Spirit-an angel, as I now understood.

“Of course I would,” said the Ghost.

“Then I will kill him,” said the Angel, taking a step forward.

“Oh-ah-look out! You’re burning me. Keep away,” said the Ghost, retreating.

“Don’t you want him killed?”

“You didn’t say anything about killing him at first. I hardly meant to bother you with anything so drastic as that.”

“It’s the only way,” said the Angel, whose burning hands were now very close to the lizard. “Shall I kill it?”

“Well, that’s a further question. I’m quite open to consider it, but it’s a new point, isn’t it? I mean, for the moment I was only thinking about silencing it because up here-well, it’s so damned embarrassing.”

“May I kill it?”

“Well, there’s time to discuss that later.”

“There is no time. May I kill it?”

“Please, I never meant to be such a nuisance. Please-really-don’t bother. Look! It’s gone to sleep of its own accord. I’m sure it’ll be all right now. Thanks ever so much.”

“May I kill it?”

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s the slightest necessity for that. I’m sure I shall be able to keep it in order now. I think the gradual process would be far better than killing it.”

“The gradual process is of no use at all.”

“Don’t you think so? Well, I’ll think over what you’ve said very carefully. I honestly will. In fact I’d let you kill it now, but as a matter of fact I’m not feeling frightfully well to-day. It would be silly to do it now. I’d need to be in good health for the operation. Some other day, perhaps.”

“There is no other day. All days are present now.”

“Get back! You’re burning me. How can I tell you to kill it? You’d kill me if you did.”

“It is not so.”

“Why, you’re hurting me now.”

“I never said it wouldn’t hurt you. I said it wouldn’t kill you.”

“Oh, I know. You think I’m a coward. But it isn’t that. Really it isn’t. I say! Let me run back by tonight’s bus and get an opinion from my own doctor. I’ll come again the first moment I can.”

“This moment contains all moments.”

“Why are you torturing me? You are jeering at me. How can I let you tear me to pieces? If you wanted to help me, why didn’t you kill the damned thing without asking me–before I knew? It would be all over by now if you had.”

“I cannot kill it against your will. It is impossible. Have I your permission?”

The Angel’s hands were almost closed on the Lizard, but not quite. Then the Lizard began chattering to the Ghost so loud that even I could hear what it was saying.

“Be careful,” it said. “He can do what he says. He can kill me. One fatal word from you and he will! Then you’ll be without me for ever and ever. It’s not natural. How could you live? You’d be only a sort of ghost, not a real man as you are now. He doesn’t understand. He’s only a cold, bloodless abstract thing. It may be natural for him, but it isn’t for us. Yes, yes. I know there are no real pleasures now, only dreams. But aren’t they better than nothing? And I’ll be so good. I admit I’ve sometimes gone too far in the past, but I promise I won’t do it again. I’ll give you nothing but really nice dreams–all sweet and fresh and almost innocent. You might say, quite innocent …. ”

“Have I your permission?” said the Angel to the Ghost.

“I know it will kill me.”

“It won’t. But supposing it did?”

“You’re right. It would be better to be dead than to live with this creature.”

“Then I may?”

“…blast you! Go on can’t you? Get it over. Do what you like,” bellowed the Ghost: but ended, whimpering, “God help me. God help me.”

Next moment the Ghost gave a scream of agony such as I never heard on Earth. The Burning One closed his crimson grip on the reptile: twisted it, while it bit and writhed, and then flung it, broken backed, on the turf.

“Ow! That’s done for me,” gasped the Ghost, reeling backwards.

For a moment I could make out nothing distinctly. Then I saw, between me and the nearest bush, unmistakably solid but growing every moment solider, the upper arm and the shoulder of a man. Then, brighter still and stronger, the legs and hands. The neck and golden head materialised while I watched, and if my attention had not wavered I should have seen the actual completing of a man–an immense man, naked, not much smaller than the Angel. What distracted me was the fact that at the same moment something seemed to be happening to the Lizard. At first I thought the operation had failed. So far from dying, the creature was still struggling and even growing bigger as it struggled. And as it grew it changed. Its hinder parts grew rounder. The tail, still flickering, became a tail of hair that flickered between huge and glossy buttocks. Suddenly I started back, rubbing my eyes. What stood before me was the greatest stallion I have ever seen, silvery white but with mane and tail of gold. It was smooth and shining, rippled with swells of flesh and muscle, whinneying and stamping with its hoofs. At each stamp the land shook and the trees dindled.

The new-made man turned and clapped the new horse’s neck. It nosed his bright body. Horse and master breathed each into the other’s nostrils. The man turned from it, flung himself at the feet of the Burning One, and embraced them. When he rose I thought his face shone with tears, but it may have been only the liquid love and brightness (one cannot distinguish them in that country) which flowed from him. I had not long to think about it. In joyous haste the young man leaped upon the horse’s back. Turning in his seat he waved a farewell, then nudged the stallion with his heels. They were off before I well knew what was happening. There was riding if you like! I came out as quickly as I could from among the bushes to follow them with my eyes; but already they were only like a shooting star far off on the green plain, and soon among the foothills of the mountains. Then, still like a star, I saw them winding up, scaling what seemed impossible steeps, and quicker every moment, till near the dim brow of the landscape, so high that I must strain my neck to see them, they vanished, bright themselves, into the rose-brightness of that everlasting morning.”

God made us for perfection, for glory, for greatness, do not settle for anything less!  Let no trial go by without allowing it to purify you: “this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” (2 Corinthians 4:17)  And let us redouble our prayers this month for all those that have already gone ahead into eternity, that they may enter fully into the purifying fire of God’s love.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin encounters eternity every time he holds the Blessed Sacrament, but also every time he crosses paths with another human person.  Both are aflame with the fire of God’s love, both are full of the glory of God, and both will visibly shine with His splendor in the Heavenly Kingdom.  Only we need purification before we get there. 

“Christ Healing the Blind Man”, El Greco, 1570, MET Museum, Public Domain.

I recently completed reading from a book-length essay on the topic of Pastoral Strategies for an Apostolic Age.  On more than one occasion, the author brings up the concept of the sacramental worldview, a view which looks beyond what it seen to what is unseen but still is very much real.  In fact, those unseen realities hold the first place in the Christian vision, things such as God, angels, human souls, and Heaven.  Unfortunately, the author notes that the predominant modern vision is just the opposite – all that really matters is what is seen, what we can grasp in the here and now.  Resulting from this is an overemphasis on physical appearance, comfort, success, reputation, and having as many fun and interesting experiences as possible.

 If this is true (and I think we can probably agree that it is), then we should not be surprised by recent survey results that report that a large percentage of Catholics do not believe in the Real Presence of the Eucharist.  If we do not look at the Eucharist through a sacramental worldview, believing that behind what we see is something much greater, then all we see is a symbol.  And if all we see is a symbol with no deeper reality, then what is the big deal about going to Mass?  It can turn into only seeking that which is seen (or heard), and we judge our experience of the Mass on those things.  If the homily was too long, or uninteresting, we walk away disappointed.  If the temperature in the church was not to our liking, we walk away disappointed.  Never mind that the greatest miracle possible has just taken place in front of us, namely, Jesus Christ taking flesh in the form of bread and wine!  Not only that, He allows us to consume His very being as we receive Him in Holy Communion.  If we truly approached Mass with that sacramental worldview, I can guarantee that we would not be disappointed, because the Lord will always satisfy our deepest longings if we but open the eyes of our soul.

While our focus in not necessarily the Eucharist this month, I wanted to use it as an example of how a sacramental worldview (or lack thereof) has an impact on our lives.  All of the sacraments demand that worldview, to see beyond just the symbol and to grasp in faith the powerful working of Jesus in an invisible, though very real way.  While there is progress to be made, there are real signs of hope in our Cathedral parish.  As you may know, October is a month when we count the number of people at each Mass.  I have been pleasantly surprised to see that number increasing from week to week, a trend which I hope will continue.  We have also seen a consistent stream of penitents coming to the Sacrament of Reconciliation to seek God’s pardon and peace.  I know that I speak for all of the priests here that this brings us great joy, for to witness the powerful gift of God’s mercy in a person’s life is a true blessing, one we are privileged to be a part of as Christ’s human instruments.

Let us all pray that the Lord will open the eyes and ears of our souls to grasp the beauty of His working in us and though us in the sacraments, and indeed in every aspect of our lives.

Father Alford     

Michelangelo is probably the most well-known sculptor of all time. His Pieta has moved countless generations of Christians as we see Mary hold the dead body of Jesus in her arms. This is one of the greatest expressions of human suffering, seemingly captured in the beautiful white marble. Similarly, the statue of David depicts the ruddy youth ready for battle with Goliath, down to the finest detail of his artery bulging in his neck as he braces for battle. Surprisingly, these sculptures by Michelangelo have a lot to each us about the sacraments as we celebrate our last Sunday focusing on this in our articles. 

How does God use the sacraments to confer grace to his people? This was the topic of debate for some time in the Church. Some thought that the sacraments were simply an occasion for God to give grace directly from heaven, and the celebration of the sacrament was only asking God to do so. However, the sacraments are a more direct cause of our sanctification than this! We can say that the sacraments are an instrumental cause that God uses to give us grace. As odd as this might sound, God uses the sacraments as instruments of his grace, just like a sculpture uses a chisel as an instrument of his mind and hands. We know that the sacraments “work,” so to speak, whenever they are celebrated properly. Even if the priest is only half-heartedly saying the prayer of the Mass, or the formula for a baptism, the sacraments are still effective as instruments of God’s grace. 

A chisel by itself has no power to make a magnificent sculpture. Left to itself, a chisel will sit on the shelf where someone puts it, until the end of the world! This is because it is only an instrument and has no power without someone holding it. The same is true for any other instruments or tools that we use – they are only as effective as they are made to be by someone with the power of mind and will. By itself, the pouring of water has no power to forgive original sin. Every baby had water poured over his or her head during their first bath! But by itself, this washing does not have the power to forgive sin. The power of Jesus Christ comes from his Incarnation, Passion, Death, and Resurrection. This is what makes the sacraments powerful instruments of God’s love and saving grace. As the chisel was Michelangelo’s tool of choice, the sacraments are God’s tool of choice. He uses them to save us. When writing about Baptism and the story of Noah’s Ark, St. Peter said, “This prefigured baptism, which saves you now. It is not a removal of dirt from the body but an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ” (NAB). In the simplicity of water poured, oil smeared, and a few words spoken, God’s saving action is taking place in the sacraments. What a masterpiece God is making out of us! 

Feast Day: November 1^st 

I know … the feast of All Saints is next Sunday, so why write on them this soon?  Well, for most solemn feast days (solemnities), we begin to celebrate them the evening before, and since this particular evening has the title, “All Hallows Evening”, shortened in our day to “Halloween”, it seems something we should talk about before its upon us!

Our story begins in Rome, Italy, with Pope Boniface IV, who on May 13^th, 609 consecrated the greatest of Rome’s pagan temples, the Pantheon, previously dedicated to a whole pantheon of gods (Jupiter, Venus, and Mars), instead as a Christian Church, dedicated to “St. Mary and All the Martyrs.  And so began the Christian celebration of all the saints on May 13^th.  Gregory III, moved the celebration to November 1^st, because in 741AD he built a chapel St. Peter’s Basilica to house the relics of countless saints, a feast day that was expanded to the whole Church by Gregory IV another century later.

Some say that Pope Boniface chose the original date of May 13^th because a Roman, pagan, festival of ghosts (Lemuria) happened on that day.  Problem: the Roman festival also happened on May 9^th and May 11^th, so it does not match perfectly, and there were deep Christian precedence for a late-spring feast for all the saints already. By the 3^rd or 4^th century, you have St. Ephrem celebrating All Saints on May 13^th, Christians in Syria did so on the Friday after Easter, those in Antioch on the Sunday after Pentecost, which was the day chosen in Germany as well.  In other words, pretty much as soon as Christians were not persecuted anymore, and now that they had far too many martyrs to give each their own feast day, they started celebrating all the Saints on one big feast, about the time that it was warm enough outside to party.

Ok, so what about November 1^st?  Some claim that Gregory III was just co-opting the Gaelic feast of Samheim to a more wholesome purpose.  They point to the bonfires, costumes, various foods, and recollection of dead ancestors that all eventually became part of that pagan feast.  But, it is a bit of a stretch since the Celts had similar feasts every quarter of the year, and furthermore, Samheim actually falls on October 31^st.   The simpler explanation is that both pagans and Christians were equally apt to choose times of the year when there was both sufficient food, and still nice weather, to have a feast, and so we have November 1^st.  

Our story now takes us to France, where in 998 AD, St. Odilo (an important abbot) added a feast on November 2^nd to pray for the souls in purgatory: All Souls Day.  Five centuries later, as the Black Plague devastates Europe, there in France in particular, first in art and then in real life, they begin to dress up as various characters at different points between birth and death.  Humor in the midst of horrors is far better than hopelessness, or hatred.

Meanwhile, in Ireland, instead of costumes, we find households making various baked-goods, ostensibly placed outside for the dead, but soon enough, attracting the surrounding youngsters, who began to go door-to-door begging for treats.  It would be many more centuries before hollowed-out pumpkins/guards/squashes would be carved into ghoulish faces and lit from within, but perhaps autumn + baking + the need for light + the recollection of the dead started them in that direction.

Now we go to England, where on November 5^th, 1605, a crazy Catholic named Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the (newly Anglican) British Parliament.  He was foiled.  The Anglicans were mad.  And so November 5^th became a day when revelers would put on masks, and head to the nearest Catholic’s home demanding beer and cakes … or else.

And then, all those fine folks came to the USA, and the costumes, candies, and trick-or-treating melded into Halloween … and the Holy-Ones for whom all those festivities were intended meanwhile have been forgotten.  

Don’t forget them this Saturday evening.  Sanctity is more exhilarating than sugar, and the sacraments are more sustaining than sweets.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin has been a baptized Christian for 27 years, a communicant for 21 years, a confirmed Catholic for 14 years, and an ordained priest for 2 years.  He is working on receiving canonization, and would love for you to join him, but it could take a while.